


Just a Little More Time

by KysisTheBard



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Science Boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KysisTheBard/pseuds/KysisTheBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the last year, Tony's realized something about time, about the way it moves, how Bruce makes it move, and he's come to a major realization. He doesn't want that to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Little More Time

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a rant on tumblr about how the ship name “science boyfriends” was juvenile in a way, because it suggests that the characters aren’t ready to go that next step, where the ship name “superhusbands” infers that they are ready, and more serious, yadda ya. I can’t stand the name superhusbands, first of all. Secondly, I feel like it’s boyfriends because at the point we are given, at the end of the Avengers, I don’t feel like either character is ready for something more. They aren’t ready to jump into the next step. That means either a fic author would have to fastforward into the future to get to the point where they are ready for that level of commitment, or it would have to be a really long fic exploring all of those things… and a lot of long fics, mine included, aren’t the happiest, so that doesn’t get to happen. So you know what, here we go. I’m making that leap. I’m fastforwarding. The world wants something serious, something more mature, so there. Take it. Enjoy (hopefully).

It was funny how time worked. Time itself didn’t really change; minutes were still minutes, seconds were still the same, hours, and so on. It was all in the perception. When he was dying, he could feel every excruciating second ticking by, slipping through his fingers like the Afghan sand, hot and volatile. Even still, even feeling them all like a sharp punch to the gut, he didn’t feel like he could do nearly enough in the fleeting time allotted to him.

And then there was this.

It had been nearly a year and a half since he had first met Bruce Banner on the helicarrier. It wasn’t a moment he could easily forget. He sauntered into the control room like he owned it and leapt right in to the conversation that was already halfway done without his presence, not missing a beat, not even noticing who the other voice was at first, until suddenly it was a back and forth and _wow_ , was that someone who could keep up with him? Fascinating. It only seemed right to offer a firm handshake, where he wouldn’t let other people even touch him, and a flash of a bright smile, which really, he should charge for.

And then it had been a year as of two minutes ago that they started dating. Yes, he remembered the time. They were in the lab, working on a possible active camouflage system for the Mark VIII prototype when out of the blue, Tony asked Bruce if he wanted to go to dinner. He couldn’t forget how Bruce looked up with that shy smile of his, then glanced over his shoulder to see if maybe Tony was talking to someone else. They were alone. They spent a lot of time alone, working days at a time, flipping back and forth through various projects and making more headway that seemed humanly possible. Of course they made that sort of headway, and of course Bruce said yes. Bruce was a genius. He wouldn’t choose differently.

Even more impressive than that, it was nearly six months since the first time they’d slept together, and not just drifting off together in the lab because they’d been working nonstop for three days straight. This was intimate. This was important, because Bruce was finally comfortable to give intimacy a go again, and they’d made it work and proved, without any sort of question, that the Other Guy didn’t make him unworthy of that sort of thing. Far from it.

And time flew. Seconds blended into minutes. Minutes blended into hours. Days to months. Months to a year. It was already a year. Just over a year ago, he’d have told anyone he wasn’t the dating type. He wasn’t on speaking terms with relationships. Never had been, never would be. There was no reason for anyone else to want one with him, either, for more than just a handful of reasons, not to mention to stress that came with him. Pep would attest to that one.

But time. Time had made him realize something. Or rather, the way he perceived time. Tony knew that he wouldn’t mind another year just slipping by like the last one had. In fact, he’d enjoy it. A lot. And if the years didn’t slip into a decade, into more, he’d be incredibly surprised.

“I’ve been thinking.” Tony tapped his fingers on the cool metal of the work table, staring down at the assortment of parts in front of him. He’d meant to start assembling a small piece of a new shield prototype, but hadn’t done anything more than stare at the pieces for the last hour. He thought it was an hour. He hadn’t really been keeping track, not with the current company.

“You’re always thinking, Tony.” Bruce looked at him through a blue screen before going back to the figures splayed before him. Tony couldn’t help but smile. He should have seen that rebuttal coming.

“Okay. Let’s scratch that. I declare a do-over.” Tony waved his hand in the air, even though he could tell Bruce wasn’t really paying attention. “I’ve been thinking about this last year.”

That got his attention. Cracking a whip wouldn’t have been half as effective, plus that would have gotten at least a grumble out of the Other Guy, which wasn’t what he wanted at all. Though it would be kind of funny.

Right. Bruce was staring a hole through his face right now, brows pulled in just enough Tony knew he was a little worried. Or had forgotten their anniversary. Whatever. He’d never been good at remembering that stuff until now.

“And thinking about the future.”

Bruce pulled his glasses down off the bridge of his nose, letting them rest lightly on the tip, enough to stare over them. There was an implied ‘and’ as well as a ‘so what’ plastered all over his face, so Tony kept going.

He always talked a million miles an hour when he was nervous anyway. No point trying to hold it back.

“I thought about taking you out. To Angelo’s place down on 57th.” Tony picked up a wrench, waving it as he talked. “But then I really, really thought about it. More than just in passing. This seemed like a better place.”

By now Bruce had minimized all the readings on his screen. He pushed it aside, leaning on the table and just watching, the ‘so what’ blending into the faintest hint of worry. It was completely unfounded, but Tony wasn’t exactly talking in a straight line and conclusions, though horrible, were definitely easy to come to. They’d both learned that one the hard way.

“I mean, we do all our work in here. Together, might I add.” Tony pointed at Bruce with the wrench, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “This is where we first really got to know one another. Where I asked you on our first date. That was…” Tony glanced at his watch. “One year and seven minutes ago.”

Bruce pushed himself up slowly, so much going through his eyes, even though his face was relatively unchanged. He could see those gears running, spinning so fast Tony could hardly keep up with them sometimes. That was fine. That was part of what he loved. There was a light bulb flashing on behind Bruce’s eyes, and it was bright enough to drown out the glow of the arc reactor at times.

“First kiss was right there.” Tony pointed toward one of the other worktables, completely covered in lab equipment. Ten months ago, it’d been covered in lab equipment as well, just different equipment. The lab was always changing, evolving to keep up with their needs. There was just one more evolution it needed to go through. “I brought something out for you to see.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Bruce moved, and slowing every step, but he got there eventually. Tony’d wrapped the box in a brown paper bag and closed it with some black electrical tape, since he couldn’t find anything else that would work. And it did work. It wasn’t quite a box, though. There were two boxes.

Bruce just stared down at the box like it’d open itself, which almost made Tony laugh. He had to fight hard not to. “Open it.”

He was gentle. He was gentle with everything he did, from dissecting a plant under a microscope to doing controlled gamma explosions in containment to helping him upgrade the electromagnet in his chest. It wasn’t that Bruce doubted his abilities—most of the time; they were working on that—but that he cared, and it showed through his fingers as they peeled up the tape and smoothed the paper aside without ripping it at all.

There were two boxes, both bared as Bruce smoothed out the brown paper against the table.

The bigger of the two was the first arc reactor, still glowing faintly, a soft little white light. Around it was Pepper’s little stand, reading ‘PROOF TONY STARK HAS A HEART.’ Bruce’s smile was lit by that pale white light, reflected in his eyes as well. Bruce had never seen the first arc before, at least not physically. He’d seen the schematics more than once.

Bruce ran his fingers over the glass, then finally looked up.

The smaller box was taped to the top of the glass display case, also with black electrical tape. Bruce pulled that tape off as well, setting it aside. There was a trash bin just a short throw away, but Tony wouldn’t comment, couldn’t comment.

It was like time was standing absolutely still. Tony caught himself holding his breath. Probably not good. He tried taking a discrete gulp through his nose, almost choking. Tony knew his face was red, but tried acting like nothing happened, rearranging the tools in front of him _again_.

“What is—”

“Just open it, Bruce. You’re killing me over here.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and gave him a quick look, Tony flashing one of his smiles in a miniature protest. He most definitely was not being overdramatic at the moment, and he would have acted absolutely offended, in jest of course, if it didn’t feel like his heart was about to pop the arc reactor right out and make him plummet into cardiac arrest. Which would completely ruin everything he had planned.

As if out of a playful kind of spite—spite probably wasn’t the right word, but he was offended, so there—Bruce took his time looking at the arc reactor a little more, fingers skirting the little metal box on top of it like it was interesting, but not that interesting.

Then he opened it.

If time could stop more than it had already stopped, in the perception sense, it would have.

The glare of dim white light was replaced with a wash of blue, bright despite its small source, and Bruce’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, consumed by that light. He must have put his thumb over it for a moment, because the light vanished, and then his mouth was hanging open slightly.

Tony quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “No comment?”

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes. I mean. What do you think it is?” Tony quickly corrected himself, pausing. He was definitely frowning now. He might have spoken too quickly for any of those words to make any sense. Great.

“This is the element that powers your arc reactor.”

Tony closed his eyes, letting a slow breath whistle through his teeth. He counted the seconds. They were going again. Slow, each tug of blood through his veins, rushing through his ears, throbbing at his temples, reminding him the seconds still existed.

“Tony…”

“Yeah?” Tony opened his eyes, tapping his fingers on his bicep. Bruce was cradling the box in his hands in that gentle way like it would break. It wouldn’t. He’d made it. The ring wouldn’t break either.

Bruce finally looked up from the ring, smile suddenly the brightest thing in the room. “Come here.”

That was all it took. Tony rounded the table with a bound, a few quick strides pulling him right up next to Bruce. He glanced down. The ring was still in there, though the light should have told him that. “It’s an alloy. Titatium and vibranium. That there practically functions as a power source, which—”

Bruce silenced him with a kiss. It was short, chaste, questioning in a way which made Tony’s stomach clench.

“No really, listen.” Tony had to pause, Bruce kissing him again before Tony clapped his hand over Bruce’s lips to make him stop. “It expands. The ring expands. And shrinks. And it can take a beating. Really.”

He could feel Bruce’s lips move under his hand, so he pulled back, letting him loose. “It’s perfect.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

Bruce nodded, lifting the box.

Gladly, Tony plucked the ring out of it, fitting it on Bruce’s finger.


End file.
